I woke up today,the church bell didn't chyme,
I was surprised even the little bird didn't sing,
I listened but couldn't hear the pound of the pestle,
Even the grinding stone was quiet.


The muezzin's speaker made no sound,
It was morning but it was darker than a solstice night,
Summer, yet colder than a winter night
Yes! Even the sun hides in terror.


The children do not come out to play,
The women pick their hoes not,
The men hunt no more,
No, they are all quiet.

The cap of the bell ringer has lost its head,
The little bird sings no more,
No one would listen to her songs again,
The grinding stone is quiet; its master grinds no more.


The children will play no more,
For their bodies lie on the streets, never to play no more,
The maiden will never have her breast sucked by her sons,
For among the ruins lies her carcass; a food to the vultures.


I woke up today,
Wishing I didn't wake,
My brothers are dead, my sister wakes no more,
I woke up today wishing there was no today, for my love ones are no more!


Written at this time of mourning in solidarity with persons who have lost their loved ones in middle belt Nigeria.


In honour of the forgotten ones.


By: Rigel Adewumi.